And Me
by MarcoLover16
Summary: They weren't expecting to find Draco Malfoy laying bloody and broken right outside of the burrow, but why they didn't just leave him to die was more of a mystery. 'And me...I don't know who I am anymore,' said Draco. Harry was tired of picking up pieces.
1. These Situations

Author's Note: Umm, okay. I should probably be put in a mental institution for starting this story with every other story I have going on, in addition to all the other important things in my life right now, but I needed to do it. One of these days, I'm going to write a Harry/Ginny to prove to you all that they're my second favorite couple (under James/Lily, of course), but this is Harry/Draco, and in order for this story to work, you have to pretend Harry and Ginny were never together. It's the only non-canon thing about this story. Obviously, it's slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you've _never _read it, give it a try. :) Please review. Oh, and this takes place about a week after the end of the seventh book, not including the epilogue.

"Go get someone."

"Malfoy, can you hear us?"

"Go get someone! Who the bloody hell cares if he hears us?"

"Ron, calm down."

"Hermione," said Harry, speaking much more calmly than Ron had been, "can you go get someone?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, shooting Ron a dirty look before walking into the house.

"How long do you think he has been out here?" asked Ron.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Harry.

Harry sighed, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. It was so hot that Harry could not even begin to process why he, Ron, and Hermione had decided to come outside in the first place. Whatever the reason had been, it was soon forgotten when they saw Draco Malfoy, a bloody, bruised, and broken mess laying in the yard.

Ron stood up. "Hey, maybe we can go find a lake and—"

"We're not throwing him in," said Harry.

"I was going to say take a dip because it's hot," said Ron.

Harry gave him a look. "Okay, that was on my mind as well."

Harry laughed. "I had to admit, it was on mine for a minute too."

Hearing his name, Harry looked up to see Mrs. Weasley running out the door, Hermione and Ginny trailing behind. They were each holding a bucket.

"Harry," she said again, getting closer. "What's happened?"

"We don't exactly—"

But Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to care what they had to say about it. She kneeled down beside Draco, dropping her bucket next to her, and taking out a wet cloth.

"Is he conscious?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Uh…"

"Just give him a good kick," said Ginny. To prove she meant business, Ginny administered the kick herself, getting Draco right below his ribs.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Draco groaned, but he didn't move. Mrs. Weasley pressed the wet washcloth to his cheek, wiping off the dried blood. Harry looked away.

"See?" said Ginny. "All it took."

Harry and Ron were afraid to laugh, considering Mrs. Weasley was watching them carefully. "He just appeared here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed. "We didn't hurt him. Merlin."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, standing up. "We're going to have to take him to the hospital."

"We can't," said Ginny. "They will ask what happened. Can't you just fix him up?"

"I'm not comfortable with doing that," she said. "Besides, if I screw up, I don't want a lawsuit on my hands."

"The hospital has way too much on their hands right now," said Ron. "They're cleaning up the people _his _father hurt."

"Ron," said his mother warningly.

Ron sighed, defeated. "Yes, ma'am."

Ron put one arm under Draco's legs, and the other by his neck, and lifted him up. "He's surprisingly light," he muttered to Harry.

"Be careful," Harry advised. "You never know when he might stop pretending to be half-dead, and all of a sudden, he'll take a swing at you."

"Thanks," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Mum, maybe we should wait until dad gets home," Ginny suggested quietly.

"I can handle it," said Mrs. Weasley.

However, after trying to pick the boy up, Mrs. Weasley realized it wasn't going to be so easy to take care of on her own.

"I can help, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, feeling as though he had to do something useful during his stay at the Burrow.

"I—" Mrs. Weasley looked ready to object. "All right," she said.

Harry nodded, taking Draco from Ron's arms. Harry could not help but realize that Ron was right about the weight thing; he felt more like a small wooden chair than a human being.

"He's obviously been through the mill," said Harry.

"Indeed." Mrs. Weasley agreed.

"That's not fair. We want to come!" said Ginny, crossing her arms.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Mrs. Weasley, rubbing her eyes wearily. "This isn't a field trip."

"Someone needs to wait here. Your father won't know where we've gone," protested Mrs. Weasley weakly, knowing that no matter what she said, they were going to beg to come.

"George is upstairs," said Ron.

"He'll tell him," said Ginny.

It was obvious that Hermione wanted to come just as much as the others did, but she was politely keeping quiet.

"And if we tell George we're going, he'll want to come as well," said Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, all right. I don't know why I bother, as it's obvious not one of you listens to a word I say anymore."

Harry thought Mrs. Weasley's sudden submissive attitude was the cause of that particular problem.

So, the five of them ended up in the waiting room at St. Mungo's. Harry thought the waiting room was a very appropriate name for the large white room he was sitting in, considering all they could do any longer was _wait. _

The woman at the front desk had seemed impatient with them when they arrived because they couldn't tell her what was wrong. The healers, at first, didn't know what to do with Draco. He had been sent to many different wards before he was settled in one room.

Mrs. Weasley had been dealing with the nurses that kept coming in to talk with her.

"No, I am not his guardian. He showed up in my backyard like that."

The four teenagers tried not to laugh when a new nurse would come to ask the same questions. It looked as though Mrs. Weasley was ready to say, "To hell with it. We'll take the boy home."

"Why do I feel so bad?" asked Harry. He and Ginny were sitting a few seats down from Ron and Hermione. It had gotten a bit uncomfortable after their _third _kiss.

"Are they still going at it?" Ginny asked, laughing. "Well, I guess I'm happy for them…"

"Yeah," said Harry, glancing back at Ron and Hermione again.

"And, to answer your question: You're Harry Potter."

Harry blinked. "Well, thanks for the clarification."

Ginny sighed. "I feel sorry for you. You've been cursed with a good heart."

Harry nudged her. "You're not so cold-hearted yourself."

Ginny sighed teasingly. "You hurt me, Harry. You really do."

Mrs. Weasley walked back over to them, taking a seat next to Harry. "Why'd you move?" she asked, confused.

Ginny smirked. "We have a couple showing their _love _a few seats down."

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "When did that happen?" she asked, becoming serious.

"Much later than it was supposed to," Harry answered, laughing. "So, what did the nurse say?"

"Are you his guardian?"

"Again?" Ginny asked. "Unbelievable."

"The next time they ask me, I'm going to say I am," she said.

"Please. The next time they ask, I'm going to say _I _am," said Ginny. "They're so stupid."

A few more moments passed in silence between them before Harry asked what was on everyone's mind.

"Are we going to write to his parents? They probably want to know where he is."

Mrs. Weasley fiddled with her hands in her lap, looking at her fingers instead of Harry. "Harry, have you ever found a hurt baby bird?"

Harry, who could see no relevance at all, nodded. "Yeah."

"Were you ever told not to touch it?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly. He caught Ginny's eye to see if maybe she understood what this was about; she shrugged.

"Do you know why you're not supposed to touch it, besides the fact that you don't want to risk getting blood on your hands?"

"No idea," said Harry, bemused.

"If you pick up the bird and nurse it back to health, you know you're doing a good thing. However, if the bird goes back to his nest, the mother will smell human on it, and the mother will not go near it. Therefore, it won't be fed."

"It dies of starvation," Ginny added.

"So, you thought you were doing a good thing, but when the bird goes back home, it ends up dying anyway."

"Are you saying the Malfoys won't take us in just because we took care of him?" asked Harry. "I mean, the war is over now. That's—"

"Well, he did _come _to us, didn't he?" said Ginny. "Maybe, it'll look like he begged us for help or something."

"I'm just saying that, perhaps, we should wait for Draco to wake up and tell us what happened before we get his parents over here."

Harry still didn't completely understand, and he was sure there was more to what Mrs. Weasley was thinking, but he sat silently, deciding it was better to just let it be.

It took about an hour for anything helpful to come along. A short, blonde, nurse of about twenty walked into the waiting room. Harry recognized her as the first one they had spoken with.

The nurse walked over to them.

"I'm Nurse Mary," she said. "You do not know his name?"

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath. "No. I do not," she lied.

The nurse sighed. "This is very difficult for us. I apologize."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. The others stayed quiet.

"He is slipping in and out of consciousness. Right now, he is awake, but…I don't think he's really _there."_

"He's delirious, you mean?" Harry asked.

The nurse turned her eyes to Harry, glancing up noticeably to his scar. "Well, sort of. Are you—"

"Yes," said Harry, feeling, for the first time, happy to be Harry Potter. He knew he could use that name to his advantage.

"—Harry Potter?" she finished her sentence.

"Yes," said Harry again. "Yes, I am. I'm Harry Potter. Can we go in and see him?"

"Strictly speaking—"

Ginny cut her off, "_Rudely_ speaking," she said, "you would be either dead or enslaved if it weren't for this boy right here. This hospital would probably not even exist without him."

The nurse cleared her throat, hoping to prevent a disturbance. "Let's go in then."

They followed the nurse down the hallway. "You've got quite a group here," said the nurse nervously. Harry tried not to laugh as he realized she was intimidated by Ginny; everyone was.

"Only these two are mine," said Mrs. Weasley. "I have seven, though."

"Six, mum," said Ginny.

Harry bit his lip and turned to Ron, but Ron was looking down at the floor. This had become a common occurrence at the burrow. Ginny was grieving the loss of Fred in her way, by saying his name, making sure people knew he was gone, talking about it, even crying about it on rare occasions. Mrs. Weasley, however, was in a sort of denial. She refused to admit that she had lost one of her children.

"Seven," said Mrs. Weasley, not looking at her daughter.

"Mum, I—"

"Damnit, Ginny, shut-**up," **said Ron.

Ginny did so, but she didn't look happy about it.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "It'll be okay soon."

"I don't feel like crying anymore," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

Harry didn't say anything else.

Finally, after what seemed like days, the reached Malfoy's room. It was rather warm, but not as bad as the waiting room, and the walls were painted blue. Harry thought the change in color was necessary. All the white had a tendency to make a person dizzy, and dizziness probably isn't good for someone who is ill or injured.

Harry was glad to see that Malfoy wasn't hooked up to any machines. Other than the new scars on his face (which Harry had to admit he was rather excited about; it would make Draco unable to effectively tease Harry about his own scar), he looked the same as he looked the last time Harry and the others had seen him.

"He'll open his eyes," said the nurse, "but we're pretty sure he's not aware of our presence."

"I'll be back in a minute," she said, closing the door behind her.

"This has been an interesting day," said Ron, pulling Hermione closer to him.

"Yeah," said Hermione.

Harry moved closer to the bed cautiously, poking Malfoy's arm. "Are you awake?" he asked, somewhat impatiently. He was desperate for answers.

The blonde murmured something unintelligible and turned his face into the pillow.

"Ohhh, Malfoy," said Ron, trying to get him to make another sound.

Malfoy groaned, muttering something else to himself.

"Stop," said Mrs. Weasley. "The boy is confused."

Ron sighed. "Fine. We'll be _nice_, and when he wakes up, he can be ungrateful."

"The way it's meant to be," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

The nurse walked back into the room. This time, she was accompanied by a healer.

"Hello," he said cheerfully.

"Hi," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's going on with him?"

"On the outside, he's all right. There may be some brain damage," said the healer, dropping his smile.

"Brain damage?" asked Ron, looking mildly concerned, for the first time.

"We're not sure how serious it is quite yet," said the healer.

"Like permanent stuff?" Harry asked.

"Again, not sure."

Harry poked him again. "He's made some…noises."

"Like muttering and stuff," said Hermione.

The healer nodded. "That's good," he said. He turned to the nurse. "Could you steady him?

The nurse walked over to the side of the bed opposite Harry. "Son," she said quietly, unsure what else to call him. "Son, sit up."

The only sign that Draco may have heard her was the movement of his arm. The nurse sighed, but helped him up herself while the healer walked over with a potion.

"Open your mouth, sweetie," she said.

Draco opened his eyes and groaned. "Nuh," he said.

The nurse, however, ignored his 'nuh' and pulled his chin down slightly to give the healer the ability to pour the potion in his hand into Draco's unwilling mouth.

"There," she said, releasing him. Draco blinked a few times and covered his face with his hands.

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. "What was that supposed to do?" she whispered.

Harry shrugged.

The nurse gently pried Draco's hands away from his face. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Draco turned away from her and shrugged. "Okay."

"That's good," said the nurse.

Draco looked wide awake, pleasant, and it didn't seem to Harry that he was reacting the way he should have been to having Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys in a hospital room with him.

He did look a little lost, however, and when he caught sight of how many people were staring at him, he became nervous.

"Stop," he said quietly, covering his face again.

Harry frowned. Malfoy was acting very oddly.

"It's okay," said the nurse, taking his hands away again.

"Why am I _here?" _he asked.

"Some injuries," said the healer.

"Listen, I have to go. There are other—"

The healer interrupted the nurse. "Of course."

They all watched the Nurse Mary leave the room.

"I'm Healer Madock," said the healer. "Can you tell me your name?"

Draco shook his head, refusing to take his hands away from his face.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Healer Madock gently.

Draco nodded. "They're staring at me," he admitted weakly.

"If you take your hands away from your face for me, they will look away." The healer spoke as if he were talking to a frightened toddler.

Draco pulled his hands away shakily to find that the others were all looking at the ground. He smiled. "Good."

"Good," repeated Healer Madock. "You want to tell us your name now?"

Draco quickly shook his head.

"No?"

"No," said Draco.

Healer Madock seemed to have expected this. "What about telling me what happened?"

Malfoy laughed. He _laughed_, and it wasn't at someone else's pain; it was a true, happy-like, laugh.

"I don't know."

"You don't remember?" asked the healer.

"No," said Draco sadly. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," said the healer. "I really wish I could call you by your name, but you don't remember that either?"

Draco looked away from the man. "No," he said, letting his hair fall into his eyes.

"Let's all give this boy some time to rest," said the healer. "Come on."

Careful not to even glance at Draco, they all followed Healer Madock out of the room. Immediately after exiting, the questions began.

"What is wrong with him?" asked Hermione. "Is it like amnesia?"

"I don't think so," said the healer.

"You said there was brain damage," said Ginny.

"Oh, there definitely is. This, I think, could be partly because of the brain damage, but mostly psychological."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "He purposely forgot everything?"

"I think he's reverted back to…a child-like state, in which case, I can hardly do anything to fix him."

"What, like, he thinks he's a little kid?" asked Harry. "Can that even happen?"

"It's…I'm not sure that's what it is," said the healer. "But it's a bit more complicated than that, and it can only happen under extreme circumstances. It may go back to normal in an hour—a day—a week. The memory problem—I don't know how long or _if—"_

_"_So, it could be permanent?" said Ron. "Like, he'll never remember who w—I mean—_he _is?"

"I can't say right now," said the healer. "Look, if you're really concerned about this kid, come back tomorrow. I'll have more information for you then."

"Wow," said Harry, as Healer Madock was walking away.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "How _do_ we get ourselves into these situations?"

Author's Note: Please please pleeeeeeeease review! Thanks.


	2. Yelling and screaming

Author's Note: **READ. **Okay, so now that I have your attention…I have a few things to say. First of all, you may have noticed what I was trying to show in Molly, you know, the fact that she doesn't care to argue with her children anymore. She basically lets them do what they want, which is very un-Mrs.Weasley-like. You'll see where that's going, of course, but I just want you to know it's not an accident. I haven't screwed up her character. The next thing isn't really important, but I'll say it anyway. There is a whole lot of foreshadowing in this chapter. _Most_ of it is pretty subtle, but it will all come back later on. There was something else, but I seem to have forgotten. This chapter is pretty long. Enjoy and review!

For the second time, Harry thanked Merlin his name was an important one. It took almost nothing to convince the hospital that Harry Potter (plus the other insignificant members of the Burrow) would take perfect care of a certain nameless blond.

Harry was pretty sure that the healers were at much of a loss as to what to do, but they had determined Draco to be eighteen years old. Therefore, he was not a child anymore (well, not really).

Draco was going to stay with them until he was able to give information about his family and what happened, and then, by knowing his name, Healer Madock would be able to find his family and send him back. Then, the burden on the Weasleys would be lifted. They were hoping it would not take very long.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still had a few details to go over with Nurse Mary and the receptionists. While they were busy, Harry and Hermione tried to keep Draco calm. It was no secret that Ginny and Ron were finding their attempt rather amusing, especially since they weren't allowed to call him by his name until they were away from the hospital.

"Shh, Ma—shut-_up, _Ron!"

It was impossible for Hermione to speak to Draco without addressing him by Draco or Malfoy, and Ron could not help laughing at her.

"Do you want to help?" she asked, her eyes threatening.

Ron sobered immediately. "No," he said fearfully.

"Calm down," said Harry, putting his hand on Draco's shoulder.

The blond was sitting on the ground, refusing to get up with them. He was crying, his face in his hands, and he was making a bit of a scene.

"Shh," said Harry. "We're going to leave soon."

They had absolutely no idea what the boy was hysterical about.

"Hey," said Hermione, crouching down beside him. "Do you like candy?"

Draco nodded, motioning for Hermione to move further away. She obliged.

"Well, at the burrow, we have tons of candy."

Draco looked confused. "Why?" he asked.

"Because it's good," said Ron.

"Is it…a holiday?"

"Uh…" Hermione looked to Harry for guidance. He shrugged in response. "Sure."

"Which?" Draco demanded, calming slightly to perform his interrogation.

"My birthday," she lied.

"That doesn't count," said Draco, giggling. "It needs to be a holiday for there to be candy."

"Silly Hermione," teased Ron.

"Well, not anymore," said Hermione, standing up. She ignored Ron's comment.

Harry put his hand out for Draco to take, and he helped pull him up.

"Come on," said Harry. "We're going outside to wait for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I need some air."

"I'm coming," said Ginny. She did not want to leave Harry alone with Draco.

Taking care of the five-year-old in an eighteen-year-old's body was more difficult than anything any one of them had ever experienced. Harry was surprised to find himself silently praying for the Death Eaters to come back because they were more enjoyable.

Draco, as always, protested to the idea of going outside.

"I don't want to go," he whined. "Are we walking?"

"Apparating," said Harry, holding his fingers to his lips to show Draco he needed to be quiet.

"Apparating," said Draco. "What does that mean?"

"Would you stop?" Ginny shouted. "People are looking at us."

Harry knew that staring was something that came hand in hand with being famous, but it certainly increased when he was standing with a short-tempered Weasley and a grown man acting like a child, who, most people, were recognizing as Draco Malfoy when they walked by.

"I think this will hit the papers," said Harry. "Then, we'll be in deep trouble."

"Oh, no," said Ginny, looking fearful. "No, I'm sorry for yelling!"

Draco had started to cry, and he buried his face in Harry's shoulder, gripping his robes in his hands tightly.

"Shh," said Harry, unsure of what else to do. "She didn't mean it."

Ginny sighed. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," she said grudgingly.

Draco lifted his head off Harry's shoulder, but he wrapped his arms around Harry's middle and moved closer. Harry was apparently expected to protect Draco from Ginny.

Harry accepted the job, just glad Draco had stopped crying.

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, coming up behind them. She had all the others with her. "Is he all right?" she asked.

"I hurt his feelings," said Ginny. "Anyway, what's the deal?"

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley slowly, glancing at the boy hiding his face in Harry's shoulder again. "We're going to be taking him in temporarily, but there will be regular check-ups to see ho he is doing…and how we're doing, if you catch my drift."

"I'll try not to abuse him," said Ginny.

"Right," said Mrs. Weasley. "He'll also be seeing a therapist."

"Me?" asked Draco, lifting his head curiously.

"Yes, you," said Mrs. Weasley. "Don't worry; it's nothing bad."

"Wish it were," Ron muttered.

"Okay," said Mrs. Weasley loudly, glaring at her youngest son. "Let's be off. Uh…Harry, since you two are already connected, I suppose you could go with Draco."

Harry sighed. "Hang on tight," he said, wrapping his arm securely around his companion.

Draco, it turned out, did not like Apparating. As soon as they arrived back at the Burrow, he vomited all over Harry's shoes.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, holding his breath. "Are you okay?" he asked courteously. He was able to smile slightly, thinking about how embarrassed the adult Malfoy would be if he were watching the scene.

"Uh-huh," said Draco, wiping his mouth tearfully.

More cracks were heard as the others appeared into the kitchen with them. They all immediately noticed Harry's predicament.

"You go clean up," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'll fix Draco while you're changing."

After Harry left the room, Draco smiled shyly at Mrs. Weasley. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't apologize, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. She wasn't struggling to be kind to him, the way everyone else was.

"Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've got to get back for a night shift. Can you—" He gestured towards Draco. "Can you handle this alone?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, barely hiding her agitation when Mr. Weasley left.

"Is he mad?" Draco asked, referring to Harry.

"No," said Mrs. Weasley. She led him to the sink. "I'm going to get you a toothbrush," she said before exiting the room.

"My brother has like six," said Ginny. "He bought them for when he stays here, but he never does, especially now that he's married, so the brushes are nice and unused."

She was looked at Draco strangely, biting her lip. Perhaps she was trying to redeem herself, wondering if little children held grudges again girls that yelled at them.

"Draco is my name?" he asked suddenly. "Did you just remember?"

Ron laughed. "Not quite."

Mrs. Weasley returned with a toothbrush and toothpaste in her hand. "You know how to do this?" she asked.

Draco nodded proudly, taking both items into his hands. He showed off, brushing his teeth, brushing his tongue, and spitting into the sink.

"Ta-da!" he said, smiling to show off his pearly-whites.

"Good job," said Mrs. Weasley, barely looking at him. For some reason, Draco pouted.

"Now, Draco," said Mrs. Weasley. "We don't want anyone to know that we know your name, so when the pretty woman with long, brown hair comes over, we need you to pretend we don't know. Okay?"

Draco looked confused. "Why?"

Harry came back into the kitchen, looking good as new. Having caught the tail end of their conversation, he answered Draco. "It's a game," he said.

Draco frowned. "I'm not very good at games," he said softly.

"This one is easy," said Harry. "Don't say anyone knows your name."

"Okay," said Draco.

Harry agreed. It wasn't the best game there was.

"You should start getting ready for bed, Draco," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'll show you to your room."

The moment she had gone, the discussion began.

"Can you believe he asked if I was his mother?" said Hermione.

"This is a serious situation," said Harry.

"Oh, who cares?" said Ginny. "I kind of think it's funny."

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You think everything is funny."

Suddenly, they heard a scream from down the hallway. The voice very clearly belonged to Draco.

"Maybe we should just ignore it," said Ginny. "I'd rather not see what the problem is."

Harry gave her a look. "We cannot ignore it."

Harry followed Draco's screaming to Charlie's room. With an ominous feeling, Harry opened the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Draco was crying again, somehow looking more dreadful than before. His hair was falling into his eyes, and he was shrieking and shaking.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "I have no idea."

Draco was sitting down on the bed, throwing items from the night table across the room.

"Hey," said Ginny, covering her face to prevent getting hit with a book. "What is the matter with you?"

Harry grabbed Draco's wrists before he picked up the night table. Draco did not seem to understand his own strength. After all, he thought he was a five year old, and he probably wasn't used to being able to kick adults off of him or throw a table.

"Calm down," Harry demanded, hoping he was scary and composed at the same time.

Draco, surprisingly, listened to him. Maybe it was because he couldn't get out of his hands. Harry waited for a minute while Draco's breathing returned to normal.

"Can I let go now?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "You won't act up again?"

"No," said Draco, suppressing tears.

Harry let go, hoping he didn't bruise the boy's wrists by smashing them together.

"Good," said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley stared at him in wonder. "How did you do that?" she asked. Harry did not answer. He truthfully had no idea.

"Why did he start?" he asked, pretending Draco wasn't in the room.

"Out of nowhere," she said.

Draco crossed his arms. "_She," _he said, pointing to Mrs. Weasley, "touched me."

"If I did, Draco, I didn't realize it," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, since mum and I are unwelcome," said Ginny, walking to the door, "we'll take our leave."

Mrs. Weasley smiled apologetically at Draco before leaving with Ginny at her side.

It was as if Ron had been waiting for a moment all day to be without Ginny (which was understandable; Ginny had been relentlessly torturing him, saying that his relationship wouldn't last if he couldn't grow a heart.) because a huge argument began between Ron and Hermione the moment they left.

"Look, I am sorry if I, in some way, offended you, but that's all I seem to do," said Ron.

"Don't even—"

Harry was so used to their fighting that he was able to block their words out. He sat down on the edge of Draco's bed, wishing he had left the room with Ginny and her mother, but feeling he'd rather be ignored in the room than interrogated outside of it.

Draco didn't react so well to their argument. He jammed his fingers in his ears and pulled his legs up to his chest, humming loudly to himself. H looked something like a boy in an insane asylum. He was allowed to feel sort of sorry for him, wasn't he? After all, this wasn't the _real _Draco Malfoy.

Harry wanted to grab his attention, but he remembered what happened when Mrs. Weasley had touched him, even though hers had probably been accidental.

"Draco," he said loudly, waving his hand in front of his face. Draco blinked and shook his head, continuing his humming.

"Well, maybe," said Ron, "if you weren't so sensitive—"

"Oh, _that's _the right thing to say," said Hermione sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes. It was more difficult to ignore Ron and Hermione when Draco was reacting so badly to it.

Harry turned to them. "GUYS!"

Harry was very surprise they even blinked. Normally, Harry could have blown one of them up, and the other would keep fighting with the ashes.

"What?" asked Ron, confused.

Wordlessly, Harry gestured toward Draco, who was having a breakdown behind him.

"Oh," said Hermione, clearing her throat. "Let's go somewhere else, Ron."

Harry was glad neither one of them had to hear the argument anymore, but he was not sure he liked being alone with the unpredictable child.

Draco gratefully took his fingers out of his ears. "They left," he said.

"They did," said Harry, getting up from the bed.

Draco looked so meek, so fragile…Harry could hardly get used to not seeing the confident and arrogant look that usually came with him.

"They don't like me," said Draco, watching Harry walk around the room, looking at anything and everything aside from Draco.

"Very perceptive," Harry muttered.

"What?" asked Draco.

Harry sighed, finally looking at him. "It's not that they don't like you," Harry lied. "They're just afraid—well, they think you don't like them."

"Oh," said Draco, neither confirming nor denying their idea.

"I mean, you did scream bloody murder when Mrs. Weasley touched you," said Harry, trying not to grin while thinking about his ridiculous behavior.

Draco shuddered involuntarily.

"Yet, you wouldn't let go of _me _at the hospital," said Harry.

"That was different," said Draco, looking as if he were about to burst into an explanation, but Harry wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

"Okay, that's fine," he said.

Draco started humming again. This time, it wasn't to block anything else out.

Harry relaxed slightly, leaning against a dresser. All that could be heard was Draco's quiet humming. Harry felt himself slowly becoming more tired, and the tune was causing him to drift a bit.

"Is it time to sleep?" asked Draco, giggling.

Harry blinked. "Definitely," he said.

"Okay," said Draco cooperatively.

Harry had to admit that he was surprised. Of all the little kids he had met, which, admittedly, didn't come out to be a lot, he had never seen one so ready and willing to go to bed at night. In fact, aside from being incredibly sensitive, Draco seemed like a good child. He didn't want to say it aloud, however, just in case it would jinx it.

"We're going to buy you some clothes tomorrow, but tonight, you'll just have to borrow something from me or Ron," he said.

"No," said Draco. "I'll just wear what I have."

The nurse had given Draco a long pair of pants, and Harry could not tell where they had come from, and he also wore a plain white t-shirt.

"Well, you wore that yesterday, last night…plus this morning. Maybe you should change."

"No," said Draco, holding his arms around himself protectively, reacting as if Harry would rip his clothes from his body.

"Okay," said Harry, backing away. "I'll let you get into bed."

Draco nodded, and he pulled the covers over himself. "Who…sleeps in here?" he asked, looking around at all the quidditch memorabilia.

"It's Ginny's brother's room," said Harry. "Charlie doesn't live here anymore, though."

"The girl who yelled at me," said Draco, recognizing her name.

"Yes," said Harry slowly. Draco was catching on quickly. "She doesn't mean anything by it, like I said. Things are a bit…hard on all of us right now."

"Why?" asked Draco.

The last thing Harry wanted to talk about with Draco was the war.

"Sleep, Draco," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

Harry turned back around. "What?" he asked anxiously.

"I can't be alone," he said, sounding as if he thought Harry should have known. Maybe he should have…

"Sure you can," said Harry. "You're a big kid."

Draco shook his head. "I can't!"

Harry looked at Draco, laying in Charlie's bed, under the covers, looking nervous. He didn't remember anything or anyone. He had never been in the Burrow before, and everyone but Harry seemed to be scaring him. Harry supposed he would feel the same way if he were in his situation.

"Hold on," said Harry, opening the bedroom door. "Would someone come here?" he shouted, causing Draco to flinch.

"So much yelling…" said Draco.

Harry ignored him. "Please!" he added.

Almost immediately, Hermione and Ron, both red in the face, came rushing to the door. "Is everything okay?" asked Hermione, pushing into the room.

"He wants me to stay in here tonight," said Harry softly. "I don't know if he's…scared or something."

"Well, do it," said Ron, shrugging. "He won't kill you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Would you do it?"

"Hell no," said Ron. "Good luck, mate."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she took Ron's basic opinion. "For some reason, he trusts you…so I say, stay with him until he falls to sleep."

Harry looked aghast. He could not believe Hermione was taking Ron's side. "Hermione!" He was careful not to yell. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You don't have to sing to him. Just stay in here; he'll fall asleep; you leave. Done."

"But—"

But Hermione was already gone, ready to continue her fight with Ron. Resisting the urge to smash his fist through the wall, Harry turned back to Draco.

"Looks like I'm staying with you," he said, forcing a smile.

Draco nodded, scooting over for Harry to sit next to him.

"Lay down?" Draco suggested.

"No," said Harry. He already felt awkward enough. "Go to sleep, Draco."

"G'night," he said cheerfully, resting his head on the pillow, and closing his eyes.

Harry shook his head, wondering how he had gotten himself in such a situation. While waiting for Draco to sleep, he thought about Draco Malfoy as a really five or six year old, living with Lucius and Narcissa.

Thinking about them caused his stomach to lurch uncomfortably. Thoughts of the Malfoys always did make him feel unhappy, considering what Lucius had put Ginny through in her first year at Hogwarts, and stranger still, what Narcissa had done for him a couple weeks prior.

True, she hadn't saved his life for him, but she had not given him up to Voldemort. It would have been easy for her to say, "He's awake! He's alive!" But…she didn't.

Harry was confused about it for a long time, but then he realized a mother does crazy things when her son is in trouble, his own mother included.

Harry was sure it wasn't anything personal. She hadn't suddenly decided she _liked _Harry.

Still, mysteriously, for a woman who loved her son enough to let her father fall, she seemed to not do much about her son being missing. Sure, it had only been two days ago that they found Draco in their yard, but three days to a parent…not knowing where her son is… Harry was sure there would be articles about it in the _Daily Prophet, _but none of them had seen anything yet.

The truth of that matter was: nobody seemed to be looker for Draco Malfoy.

"Draco," Harry whispered, praying he wouldn't get an answer.

Draco's breathing had eased, and Harry wasn't surprised he fell asleep so quickly. He had been through a long day. Harry quietly left the room, closing the door over, afraid Draco might not want it closed completely.

Harry sighed, walking out into the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were there waiting for him.

"Hey," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "I got him to go to sleep."

"Good," said Mrs. Weasley. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, sipping her own.

"No, thanks," said Harry. "I'm a bit tired myself. I think I'll just get to bed."

"Okay," said Ginny, getting up to walk with him.

Once they were out of earshot, Ginny said, "I need to talk to you."

"Talk," said Harry, stifling a yawn.

"Stop," said Ginny, putting her hand out to stop Harry from walking into Ron's bedroom. "It's important."

Harry had never seen Ginny look quite so serious before. He waited for her to continue, but she seemed to be struggling with getting her words out.

"Okay, I'm not supposed to tell you this," said Ginny, "but I need to say it because…I feel guilty hiding this. But you can't tell Hermione I told you."

"Okay," said Harry slowly, feeling slightly nervous.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Come here," she said, pulling him away from Ron's door, as if he would jump out to listen.

"Where?" Harry asked impatiently.

They walked back through the kitchen to get to the front door. "Harry and I are going to take a walk outside before he goes to bed," said Ginny.

Harry tried to phrase her statement into a question, but Ginny had already pulled him out with her. He was so tired of their taking advantage of Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny, please," said Harry.

Ginny crossed her arms and looked away from Harry, avoiding his gaze. "We've all been grieving in our different ways," she said.

"Yeah," said Harry, who was so tired of discussing grieving.

"You know…Hermione and Ron have been doing their fair share of it," said Ginny.

"Yeah," Harry repeated.

He was so nervous that he was going to find out one of them had attempted suicide or something just as terrible, and he wanted Ginny to hurry along with it.

"Well, I didn't realize—I mean…during certain times, people can do things they wouldn't normally _do." _

"Ginny," said Harry, careful to keep his voice low, even though no one could possibly hear them, "you're scaring me."

"Hermione and Ron have been fighting…since this particular event, though I don't know _why. _I guess it's because Hermione is more sensitive than usual, but…"

Ginny caught a glimpse of Harry's face through the corner of her eye, and she hurried on. "I guess I'll just say it."

"That would be best." Harry agreed.

"Hermione thinks she's pregnant," said Ginny.

Harry did not respond. It was an unbelievable blow, but he was happy it had not been a suicide attempt.

Ginny went on, looking much calmer now that she had gotten it off her chest. "And I mean, I don't think it's really fair that I can't have a boyfriend, but he can get a girl pregnant. I mean—"

"Ginny," said Harry, raising his hand in the air. "Ginny, please."

"Sorry," she said. "I just…I guess I got used to it."

"When did Hermione tell you this?" asked Harry, feeling a tad bit hurt. He understood why he wasn't told, but he felt that it was something incredibly important to tell a friend.

"Three days ago," said Ginny.

"Does Ron know?" Harry asked, sure he knew the answer.

Ginny shook her head. "Hermione is so angry with herself. She keeps saying how she should have been smarter, that this isn't like her, that, if they _had _to do it—" Ginny shuddered at the thought of her brother and Hermione _together_. "—it, at least, could have been safely done. But, I guess they weren't thinking."

"Wow," said Harry. "I don't eve…wow."

"She's not even sure yet," said Ginny. "She won't see a healer…she says she just knows."

Harry nodded.

"What is her plan?" Harry asked.

"I don't think she has one," said Ginny.

They stood in silence for a while, and Harry took advantage of it to try to imagine Ron and Hermione as parents.

It was a scary thought…yet somewhat believable. He could picture Hermione as a mother; he and Ron had always teased her about treating them as if she were their mother. But…he had never thought it would happen so soon.

And then he attempted to picture Ron as a father, and no matter how hard he tried (and he did try extremely hard), he could not see it. He felt awful saying it, but he didn't know if Ron could do it.

Which, not by any means, was supposed to mean Harry would be any better at it. No. Harry did not think he could do it…ever, and he, after all, had saved the Wizarding World. Parenting was a much scarier realm.

Suddenly, a baby came to his mind, and it was much different from the picture he had tried to conjure of Hermione and Ron as parents. Involuntarily, he smiled. He couldn't help but feel happy about a child knowing there would be another child in the world in the midst of all the deaths. Perhaps, Ron's child would befriend Harry's Godson.

And…he was getting carried away. They weren't even sure if Hermione was pregnant, and he was planning her child's future.

"While we're out here, I have to tell you," said Harry, "I think that Draco has a real problem with the yelling and everything."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," said Ginny.

"Oh, please," said Harry. "Don't apologize to me; I couldn't care less. I'm worse than you."

Ginny laughed.

"It's just...he freaks me out. He sits there and rocks and holds his ears while humming."

"Okay," said Ginny. "We'll have to make an adjustment…why are we even doing this?"

"Your parents," said Harry.

"Right," said Ginny, looking away again. "Let's go inside."

"Good plan," said Harry, following her into the house.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had evidently gone to bed, and it seemed that Ron and Hermione's fight had ended, at least, from what Harry and Ginny could gather from the silence.

"Night, Harry," said Ginny.

Night."

Harry wished that he hadn't been told about the possible pregnancy. He did not think he'd be able to ever look at Ron the same way again, and he couldn't be too obvious…because Ron didn't even know yet!

He walked into the bedroom he shared with Ron, and as he expected, Ron was sitting in his bed, waiting for him. The light was on, and he was reading. Harry was certainly surprised to see that part of it.

"What are you reading?" he asked, determined to keep his voice normal.

"A book," said Ron moodily.

"Ah," said Harry, figuring it would be best to quietly slip into his own bed and leave Ron be.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What did I do?"

Harry groaned, sitting up. Was he expected to have a man-to-man chat about Ron's relationship?

"What do you mean?" he asked reluctantly, leaning on his elbow.

"Hermione—she keeps starting these arguments, Harry, about _nothing. _She looks at me as if I'm You-Know-Who risen from the dead, and I can't do a damn thing about it. I mean, I thought all these fights were behind us," said Ron.

Harry felt bad. Ron just looked so pitiful.

"I hate to say it, but your fights will never be behind you. You two like it too much," said Harry. "As for her attitude…maybe she's just going through a tough time, you know?"

"Maybe…" said Ron, sounding skeptical. "We…"

"What?" asked Harry.

"Nothing," said Ron. "Forget it."

Ron turned out the light. Apparently, they were done.

Harry had only just begun to drift when he heard Draco scream in some sort of terror again. Maybe…bringing a real baby into the house was not a good idea. At least, it didn't seem that way in Harry's exhausted state of mind.

Figuring he had to fix the problem—since Draco only let Harry and Hermione step close enough to touch him—he got out of bed.

Author's Note: How was that? Good? Bad? Please tell me. :/ There will be a lot of crazy (good) stuff going on in the next couple chapters. I'm sorry if there were a few mistakes, like typos. I didn't look it over that thoroughly. Review, please!


	3. Together

Author's Note: Something about this chapter…eh. I don't know. Enjoy. I think _All You Wanted_ is next…or maybe _Just Passing Through. _I hope some of you will be reading one of those chapters. Please review! Oh, and in England, they use Kilometers as opposed to miles, yes?

Harry quickly got used to his nightly obligations. Draco did not cry or scream, for the most part, during the daylight hours.

It was Harry that Draco seemed to really trust. He trusted Hermione as well, but he seemed to see right through her act and the fact that her kindness was forced. It wasn't that Harry's kindness _wasn't_ forced; evidently, he was just a better actor.

"Eww," said Draco, giggling. "She kissed you?"

"Hey," said Harry, pretending to be affronted.

"I can't sit close to you anymore," said Draco. "You have the cooties."

Harry laughed. "Fine by me. I'll just head down to breakfast all by myself."

As Harry had expected, Draco grabbed Harry's wrist before he could even take a step.

"I'm coming," he said, throwing the covers off of himself and moving his hand comfortably into Harry's.

Harry and Draco walked downstairs together. Draco held on tightly to Harry's hand, becoming nervous when they finally entered the kitchen.

"Harry," he said, trying to hide behind him, but it didn't work very well, considering he was taller than Harry was.

"Relax," said Harry, guiding him to the table.

Ginny was sitting at the table, talking quietly with Ron, and Mrs. Weasley was working on cooking them something.

"Just me, you, Ron, and Ginny," said Harry, pulling the chair out for Draco to sit in. "You can handle that."

Draco nodded, but he still looked shaky. "Tell me another story," he said, hoping Harry would be able to distract him from the other two at the table.

"About Cho?" he asked. "There's really not much else to tell."

Ginny, overhearing him, smirked in Harry's direction. "Harry didn't have too much luck with her."

"I'll ignore you," said Harry, turning back to Draco. "What do you want to eat?"

Draco looked alarmed. "I—I don't know."

Harry sighed. "Come here," he said, taking Draco's hand to lead him to Mrs. Weasley.

"What's on the menu, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.

Draco, once again, tried to hide behind Harry.

"Anything you want, dear," she said, looking concerned about Draco's behavior.

"What would you suggest for him?" Harry asked, struggling to keep hold of Draco's hand when he kept squirming around behind him.

"Hmm…" she said softly. "He doesn't know what he wants?"

"If he does, he's not going to say it. He's so shy."

Draco tugged on Harry's hand. "What?" asked Harry, irritated.

"Can I have what Ron has?" he asked, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper.

Harry could tell it was killing Draco to even ask such a question. The boy was practically shaking.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Of course, dear. Pancakes, it is! And for you, Harry?"

"Oh, umm…I guess the same," he said, taking Draco back to the table with him.

Hermione came to sit with them a few minutes later. It showed in her eyes that she had obviously been crying, and she was terribly pale. She chose to sit next to Ginny; ignoring Ron's request for her to sit in the chair next to him. Ron was trying his best not to show that he was bothered by it.

"Hermione! You're finally up. What would you like to eat?" asked Mrs. Weasley, placing a plate of pancakes in front of both Harry and Draco.

Hermione tried to answer but, but then she burst into tears, running from the room.

Ron quickly ran after her.

Draco started to get up as well, but Harry placed his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Sit," he ordered.

Draco obeyed until Harry rested his hand, and he then tried to get up again.

"Draco," he said. "Sit and eat."

"But—" Draco looked like he was having some sort of an internal battle. "But she's _sad."_

"She'll be okay, Draco," said Ginny.

Harry could tell that Draco was still worried. "It's fine, Draco. Just eat."

Mrs. Weasley sat down across from Ginny.

"What happened?" she asked. "Did they have a fight?"

"No," said Ginny. "She just…you know…doesn't feel well."

"Well…" Mrs. Weasley looked very apprehensive. "She should eat something."

"So should you," said Harry, rolling his eyes as Draco poked his pancakes with a fork.

"Can you cut it?" he asked quietly, looking ashamed.

"Oh," said Harry. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"So, Ginny has a boyfriend?" Draco asked.

"It looks like they're back together," said Harry.

Draco and Harry were sitting outside on the back lawn, watching Ginny and Dean talk.

Harry sighed. "Then, she will probably spend the rest of her time with him."

Draco looked at her curiously. "You don't like him?"

Harry smiled at Draco. "It's not that simple."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Dean's a great guy. Oh! Watch out, Draco. It looks like they're about to kiss."

Draco screamed and hid his face in Harry's shoulder. "Tell me when it's over!"

Harry laughed, watching Dean and Ginny from far away.

He was serious when he said that Dean was a great guy, and he did deserve to have an amazing girl like Ginny. Harry had no romantic feelings toward her, but there was something about their relationship that hurt him. Ron and Hermione had each other (and they were probably about to have a baby on their hands). Ginny and Dean had each other. Who did he have? He had the responsibility of baby-sitting his confused and childish enemy.

Harry wasn't feeling jealous…per se. He was not interested in having one of them for his own at all, but the thought of having nothing while each one of his friends had something reminded him of his life with Dudley. Hell, he'd even take being an eighteen-year-old father over having…nothing.

"Is it over?" Draco asked, pulling away from Harry.

Harry jumped. He had forgotten Draco was there.

"Yes," said Harry. "They're just talking now"

Draco leaned back into Harry. This time, it had nothing to do with watching Dean acquire cooties. He seemed to just need the comfort.

Draco laid his head on Harry's shoulder subconsciously.

Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Having grown up with affection, perhaps Ron and Ginny would know how to handle it, but he couldn't leave Draco there just to ask for instruction, so he just decided to go by instinct.

Harry hung his arm over Draco's shoulder, hoping this was the right reaction.

Draco jumped. He glanced at Harry, looking as if he just realized he had done something terrible.

"Sorry," he said, pulling himself out of the tender embrace.

Harry, looking extremely confused, nodded. "That's okay," he said.

Harry winced as he heard shouting from inside the burrow. "Come on," he said. "I need to see what's going on in there."

Draco didn't move.

"Yelling," he said simply.

Harry sighed. He had forgotten Draco's sensitivity when it came to screaming and shouting. He wanted to stay there with him, but he also wanted to know what was going on inside. What was he to do?

"I could stay here alone," Draco suggested.

Harry shook his head. That wouldn't do. Draco was way too helpless to sit still on his own.

"Well, I guess I'll leave them to it," said Harry, hoping the bitterness in his voice didn't show.

Taking Draco home had been the worst idea they had ever had. Their lives were already stressed enough, and he was probably enjoying making everything harder.

Harry had to mentally berate himself. Draco had no idea what he was doing to them. He was probably having a much harder time adjusting than the rest of them. To think he was enjoying making Harry crazy was ridiculous.

Ron paced the floor of his bedroom while Harry and Draco watching in silence.

"I don't understand how this could have happened," he said for the fifth time.

"Me neither," said Harry. "Hermione is so responsible."

Ron gave him a dirty look. "And I'm not?"

"Well…"

He needn't have worried about offending Ron because he was no longer listening to Harry.

"A baby."

Ron continued his pacing.

"Me? A baby!"

"A baby?" said Draco softly.

"Shh," said Harry, afraid to set Ron off. Draco hadn't _quite _understood what Ron had meant by the word 'pregnant,' so he had mostly kept quiet for the entire breakdown.

"Were you going to tell me this happened?" asked Harry. "It's kind of a big thing to keep from me."

After Harry said it, he kind of wished that he hadn't. He didn't mean to sound so hurt by it, and he didn't want Ron to feel accused, especially at a bad time for him.

"Well, I…" Ron looked extremely flustered. He immediately stopped pacing. "It was a complete accident, Harry."

"Accident?"

Ron looked at Draco before looking back at Harry. "I feel so awkward talking about this in front of him."

"Ron, to be honest, he has no idea what's going on. He's just a baby, and—'

"I'm not a baby," said Draco, crossing his arms.

"I didn't mean that," said Harry.

Ron looked uncertainly at Draco, who was glaring at Harry.

"Can you picture me as a father?" he asked Harry.

"Umm…do you want me to be honest?"

Ron sat down on his desk chair. "I knew you'd say that," he said.

Harry frowned, wondering what he could possibly say to comfort his distraught friend.

"The good news is, it's out."

Ron looked at Harry incredulously. "How is that good news?"

Harry grinned uneasily. "You don't have to worry about their finding out."

Ron laughed humorlessly. "I never had to worry about that to begin with, Harry. She was hiding it from me too."

"We don't know for sure yet, though," said Harry, holding onto some tiny, glimmering hope that it might be untrue.

"We will once she gets home. Could be ten minutes. Could be ten hours."

Harry shook his head and stood up. "Come with me to visit Teddy," said Harry. "That's an order."

Draco stood up beside him. "Can I come too?" he asked.

Harry knew Draco was more desperate than he let on. Being alone with the Weasleys…no Harry and no Hermione…was probably something of a nightmare to him.

"You'll have to," said Harry. "We still need to get you some clothes."

Andromeda Tonks lived in a quiet neighborhood, secluded from the rest of the world. The houses were all separated by many kilometers.

Draco held onto Harry tightly, fearing the unfamiliar grounds.

"Harry," said Ron.

"Hmm?" he replied, walking up the pathway to the door.

"You do realize Draco is her nephew, right?"

Harry froze. He had forgotten that. Regaining his composure, he continued walking. "I don't think she's even met him. It'll be fine."

Draco, however, looked more nervous than before. "What does that mean?" he asked.

"Calm down," said Harry.

Harry knocked loudly on the door, waiting patiently for Tonk's mother to open it.

Andromeda Tonks did so quickly, smiling faintly. "Hello," she said.

Harry had only come to see him one other time, and he was sad to say she looked the same as she did then. Faking her happiness.

Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun. It had probably been neater before she was forced to run around all day, tending to her needy grandson. She was still smiling, but it looked difficult for her. She was pale, and she showed signs of a severe lack of sleep.

"Hi," said Harry. "Can we come in?"

"Of course." She stepped aside.

Andromeda looked curiously at Draco, but Harry was not sure if she recognized him as someone she knew or if she simply wondered about the identity of the new addition to Harry's group of friends.

"Draco Malfoy," said Harry, giving her a careful look, "is staying at the burrow with us for a while."

"Oh," she said, her eyes widening. "I'm guessing you're here to see Teddy."

"Is this a bad time?" Harry asked. "Should I have—'

"No, it's fine." Andromeda pointed in the direction of Teddy's room. "I'd be waking him from his nap soon to feed him anyway, so you don't have to walk like mice."

"Thanks," said Harry.

Carefully holding onto Draco's hand, he led Draco and Ron into the room in which Teddy slept.

Ron nervously stared into the crib, looking as if he were afraid the baby would awaken and pounce at him.

"It's a baby," said Draco cheerfully.

Ron turned to Harry, sighing as he bit back a sarcastic retort.

Harry subconsciously rubbed the back of Draco's hand with his thumb. "It is," he said. "This is my Godson."

"Why?" Draco asked.

Harry laughed. "That's a very good question."

Ron, if possible, got even closer to Teddy's face. "He's sleeping."

"What's with the two of you and stating the obvious today?" Harry teased. "He's a very light sleeper, so I doubt he'll be doing it for much longer."

"Then what?" asked Ron nervously.

"Then, he will eat. Like Mrs. Tonks said, his nap is almost over."

Right on cue, Teddy started fussing in his sleep. He babbled incoherent baby talk into the sheets, gripping them with his tiny fingers.

Even if Harry had anticipated it, the sound of Teddy's crying always cut him. It wasn't just a cry. It was more…of an ear-splitting scream.

"Shh," said Harry desperately, carefully taking Teddy into his arms. "It's okay."

Draco threw his hands over his ears, shutting his eyes tightly.

Ron watched him comfort Teddy with a mixture of awe and fear. Harry rubbed the baby's back, whispered soothing words into his ear, and gently bounced him up and down until Teddy's screaming became a series of tearful hiccoughs.

Andromeda must have hear the cry—who couldn't?—because she came into the room less than a second later.

"I will take him," she said. "I'll feed him."

Harry handed Teddy to her.

Harry watched her leave the room, and he turned back to Draco, noticing his shuddering.

"Draco?" said Harry worriedly.

Draco fell against the shorter boy's shoulder, breaking down into hysterical sobs.

"Draco," said Harry again. "What's wrong?"

Draco didn't calm down. He was absolutely out of control.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with him?" asked Harry.

Ron was still paralyzed from Teddy's screaming. "Ho—how did you do that? How can I be expected to do that for my own kid?"

"Ron," said Harry slowly. "Ron, please just help me calm Draco down."

"That's what I mean!" Ron exclaimed. "I _can't _do that."

Harry wrapped his arm securely around Draco's waist to pull him in while Draco continued to cry into his shoulder. He ran his free hand up and down Draco's back soothingly.

"I guess taking the two of you was a _wonderful _idea," said Harry sarcastically.

Draco's sobs were getting worse when he had hoped they would be getting better. "It's okay," he said to Draco, in much the same way he had spoken to his Godson. "I'll just say good-bye to Teddy and Mrs. Tonks, and we'll go. Okay?"

Harry was not really surprised when Draco didn't answer.

"Ron," said Harry. "Let's go."

Harry rolled his eyes when Ron started to follow him, a terrified look on his face. He was tired of never doing anything for himself. When he thought he may have had an hour or so to spend with Teddy, he had to leave because Draco broke down and Ron lost almost all ability to function.

Harry and the two _children _walked out into the living room where Mrs. Tonks sat on the couch, helping Teddy hold his bottle.

Andromeda's eyes widened when she saw the state of them. Harry supposed it was a strange sight. After all, Harry looked exhausted, hanging onto a sobbing blond boy, and Ron was ghost-white, looking as if he had forgotten how to walk.

"Harry?"

Harry shook his head, giving her the impression that he did not want her to ask.

"I'm going to have to leave," said Harry.

"I can see why," she said.

Harry detached his arms from Draco, picking up Teddy and his bottle. Draco immediately wrapped his own arms around Harry's middle, practically squeezing him to death.

Harry helped support the bottle in Teddy's mouth, but Teddy considered himself independent, so Harry and Andromeda usually had to divert his attention from it. Harry ruffled his blue hair a bit.

"I promise I'll stay longer next time," he said, knowing Teddy could not really understand him. "Be good," he teased. "No pink hair, okay? Blue suits you."

Teddy giggled into his bottle, despite the fact that he had no idea what Harry was actually talking about.

Draco pulled on his robes, and Harry sighed. "Bye, Teddy," he said, handing the bottle back to his grandmother. "Take care."

"You too," said Andromeda. "Uh…you two feel better."

"They'll be fine," said Harry.

"We got clothes!" said Draco excitedly. "Robes and pants and shirts and—"

"If they hear you, they get it," said Ron, slamming the door behind them.

"Is he mad at me?" Draco asked Harry anxiously.

Harry held back an eye roll. "No. He's just mood and scared."

"He's scared?" Draco asked.

As they got further into the house, Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione in the kitchen with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley by her side. She was crying, and Ginny was rubbing her back. The Healer visit had obviously not gone well.

"Draco, come back outside with me," said Harry, watching Ron rush into the kitchen.

"Why?" said Draco.

"Come on," said Harry, leading him back out the way they had come in.

Harry and Draco walked to the back lawn again, laying uncomfortably in the grass.

"Hermione is pregnant," said Harry, reading Draco's confused expression. "She is going to have a baby."

Draco blinked. "I thought she didn't know," he said, rubbing his irritated eyes.

"She didn't," said Harry. "She was at the Healer today. She came back crying. I put two and two together."

"Oh," said Draco. "Well, why is she sad about it?"

Harry looked at Draco, dumbfounded. Had he been paying any attention? "Why is she sad?"

Draco nodded. He clearly didn't understand why Harry thought him ridiculous. "Do they not like babies? Is that why Ron was so weird with Teddy?"

"It's not that," said Harry, wondering how best to explain it to a child. "They're not ready."

"Well, why did they ask for it then?"

"What?" Harry asked, turning to face him again.

Draco repeated his question. "Why did they ask for it?"

"They…didn't."

Harry realized that Draco must have had some distorted idea about pregnancy, and he shook his head to himself, letting out a reluctant chuckle. He would take care of Draco, comfort him when he cried, make him feel better when he was scared in the night, buy him new clothes, but there was no way in hell he would be teaching him about where babies came from.

"What?" Draco demanded. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing," said Harry immediately.

He stuck by what he promised in his mind. He was not going to bring up the truth of the matter. If Draco wanted to believe one only had to wish for a pregnancy for it to happen, then that was probably a _purer _belief anyway. Harry was fine with that.

"Whaaat?" Draco whined.

"Okay," said Harry. "It's just that…you can't wish for a baby. I mean, you can, but that does nothing."

"Well, how—"

"The stork brings it whenever he wants to, and Ron and Hermione are not ready for it right now."

"Oh," said Draco, blinking. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, resisting the urge to laugh, just in case he would have to explain his amusement again.

"Well, that's mean of him," said Draco. Draco hardly waited another second before he asked, "Where are your parents? Were they happy when the stork brought you or did they cry? Did they want you, I mean? Are they here?"

Draco's bluntness never ceased to amaze him.

"No…" said Harry. "They're dead. I'm pretty sure they were happy with the stork, though."

"Oh…" said Draco. "They're gone?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "It's unfortunate."

"What about mine? Where are they?"

Harry didn't quite know how to answer his question. He still wondered why no one had said anything. He had been pretty sure that the Malfoys would throw something in the _Daily Prophet, _the hospitals would mention their patient, and they would come and collect Draco. Still, however, there had been nothing.

But he couldn't tell Draco that. He simply wouldn't understand. How would he feel if he knew his own parents weren't looking for him? Harry was incredibly surprised with his mother, in particular, but still, he said nothing about it.

"Well, I'm not sure," he said. "But they love you."

It seemed like a safe answer.

Draco smiled, leaning over to hug Harry. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, pulling away. "I'm sorry for crying."

"What?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Before. With the baby. I cried."

"Oh," said Harry, shrugging. "That's okay, Draco."

Draco shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"You don't have to apologize for that, Draco," said Harry, patting his shoulder awkwardly. "I know you don't like screaming, and—"

"No," said Draco, determined to make Harry listen closely. "I didn't mean to."

"Okay," said Harry, pulling Draco close to him. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to say that it was all right, so he just held onto him again.

"Tell me about me," said Draco.

Draco must have been able to figure out that they all had met him at least once before.

Harry tensed up. He certainly did not want to tell Draco that he had hated them, and they, in return, hated him. He also did not think it was a good idea to say that they knew where his parents were, and that they knew his parents would hate the idea of his staying with them.

Instead, he ran his fingers through Draco's hair and kept him close, knowing Draco needed that more than anything.

"We'll find you together, okay?" said Harry. "You, me, the Weasleys, Hermione, the therapist…we'll figure it out."

Draco seemed satisfied with that answer.

Author's Note: Was it terrible? Please let me know! I'm nervous about this one… /


End file.
